


Rating: R
Sunday Mornings

by InstantGirl



Category: Alias
Genre: Drama, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2005-05-24
Updated: 2005-05-24
Packaged: 2013-09-10 09:57:03
Rating: M
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: www.fanfiction.net
Story URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/2407308/1/
Author URL: http://www.fanfiction.net/u/791947/InstantGirl
Summary: Sydney has a secret that belongs to her. Not her employers





	Rating: R
Sunday Mornings

**"Sunday Mornings"**

_  
Rating: R  
Disclaimer: Not mine... JJ own it  
Summary: Sydney has a secret that belongs to her. Not her employers  
Timeline: AU. Season one_

She lived in a Luc Besson film, she decided.

Her life was filled with violence and treachery and action sequences that took your breath away.

But it was moments like these that made it all worth while.

When she could stay in bed on lazy summer mornings curled up against her lover, felling his lingering touches light fires under her skin.

She wondered sometimes if he felt the same way.

Was it some sick divine presence's sense of irony that made her crave her mortal enemy's touch? Or was it poetic justice that hands so able to yield destruction could make her feel so good?

She held no illusions of her own importance. They where cut from the same cloth the two of them. Killers, spies, lovers.

He had told her once that she was the third person he had ever felt any real affection for. And sometimes she wonders who he loved the most. She never dared ask him.

She had only ever slept with 4 men. Tommy has been her high school sweetheart. But that had ended with tears and heartache. After that she kept to herself mostly. Until Noah, who she had trusted and who had betrayed her twice, first by leaving, and then by being what he was, a killer.

Then there had been Danny, who she still loved. Because he was the only man who had never let her down. Only by dying, and that had been her fault.

And now there was Sark, who was a killer, but brutally honest about it. Who never lied, not even to make her feel better.

She had asked him once if he found her beautiful. He had told her she was pretty, but not really beautiful. She supposed she should be grateful. It was difficult enough sleeping with the enemy; at least she knew he wouldn't lie to her.

She was laying on her side, curled up against him, her hand stroking lazy circles on his chest as she let her thoughts drift.

He was sleeping. It always amazed her how he could awaken at the slightest movement or noise, yet still sleep with her wrapped around him, caressing him. Maybe he knew she was safe?

She could feel him slowly waking up. His breathing changed slightly and his heart beat went a little faster. And then he moved, and it was so sudden it almost took her breath away.

She loved the way he moved. Like a cat, all lazy grace until he pounced with lightning speed.

He had her pinned under him on the bed in less than a second

"Good morning." She smiled.

"I know how to make it even better." He grinded against her, and she could feel his erection against her thigh.

She loves this side of him, when he is nothing more than a young man enjoying his lover, when he is playful and laughs as he makes her beg for his touch.

He kept her hands pinned over her head as he pressed hard kisses against her throat and breasts. He loved that she bruised so easily. He wasn't a violent lover, but he liked to see the marks of their lovemaking on her afterwards. She liked that to. It was thrilling, going to work or meeting Vaughn with a hickey on her neck, or bruised wrists.

No one ever asked about them. She supposed they all figured she had some sort of secret lover stashed away and she delighted in the knowledge that they would never guess whose mouth and hands had left the marks that had them wondering.

She moaned when he took her hard nipple into his mouth. Laving it with his tongue making her whisper his name and buck her hips against his.

There relationship was something that only the two of them could control. It belonged to her and him. Not SD-6 and not the CIA. That made it all the more precious. There where so few things in her life that actually belonged to her these days.

She knew that Sark was hers. He might work for someone else. But he was a weapon to them. The man behind the violence was her though, for as long as this. Whatever this was, lasted.

He had other lovers she knew that, but it didn't worry her. He had told her that he had been known for bedding his various mission partners and if he stopped now it would seem suspicious. They didn't need any unwanted attention drawn to them. She knew that Sarks regular partner, a man named Simon Walker, who had been Sarks regular lover for the past three years, was aware that he was seeing a woman. Sark hadn't told him her name, but Simon who was also Sarks closest friend knew that there was a relationship of sorts.

That made her happy. That he had told someone about her made it more real in a way. Like it was more than just sex.

She had asked him once. Who was better in bed? She had meant it as a joke, but Sark had told her that comparing sex with a woman to sex with a man was like comparing pizza and steak. It was two different worlds of sensations.

She always enjoys a good challenge and today she is feeling particularly adventurous.

"You know," she whispered, "I bet I could make you come harder than any one else ever has."

And she did.

When she wakes up again three hours later he is gone. But the bruises that mar her hips and shoulders are pleasant reminders of their weekend together.  
For a moment she smiles, reliving for a few brief second exactly how she got her marks. She lies in bed for another five minutes before getting up. She has to take a shower and change the bedding before the others return. Her weekend is over, and she needs to clean up the evidence. Today she will not be sad or wistful; there will be other Sunday mornings.

And he has a bet to repay.

fin

A/N: Written for chatonespion for the Spring Sarkney Ficathon  
1. Simon or Will, and at least a hint of Sark's slashy, slashy past with either (or both) of them. Because they so totally did it.  
2. A french film.  
3. A bet of some sort.

No:  
1. This is totally cheating, but no characters other than Sark and Sydney (and Simon and Will, obviously).  
2. Crying. I want the strong Sark and Sydney of Season 1.  
3. Fluff. I know it probably doesn't need to be said, but no babies, or weddings, or puppies and flowers. I like my fic dark with a hint of humour and romance.

Timeline: Season 1 or AU.

**Feedback**


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